Ugh. Good try, season nine, but last night's performances of Billboard's No. 1 hits felt more like a sad carnival concert of dated ballads, stale beer and overplayed Best of the '70s jams that belong nowhere near the charts in 2010. Even with the guidance of ageless warlord Miley Cyrus, the contestants seemed lost and a little lonely during their performances, with stupid falsettos and nervous sweats once again threatening our good time. Still, we've got your Idol performances ranked worst-to-first after the jump.
11. Paige Miles, "Against All Odds"
Paige Miles has an undeniable gift -- for choosing ballads that she can't sing. Guh-her! There's not a single novel quality left in "Against All Odds," and Paige didn't add a thing to it. She's following the blueprint of some woebegone season-two contestant whose identity is wrapped up in serviceable takes on standards and bland hits. Take your Charlie Chaplin songbook and hide in the nearest hat and mustache, Paige.
10. Andrew Garcia, "I Heard It Through the Grapevine"
Khaki-coated peanut M&M Andrew Garcia is not haunted by his stupid-ass-train-station-breakdown version of "Straight Up." No, Kara. He's haunted by hokey stage presence, hilarious coos and the dance moves of an average youth-group administrator. This man shouldn't be leading the charts -- he should be leading scrawny preteens in cah-RAZY a cappella prayers. Marvin Gaye requires regular healing in addition to sexual now.
9. Katie Stevens, "Big Girls Don't Cry
Katie Stevens did her "I can young it up!" thing this week, opting to pick a tune that could've made her sound like she was born in the past 20 years. But as much as Randy Jackson insists that Idol is a singing competition, Katie proves it's not; She can sing, but she can't connect with a song, make it her own or make it memorable. And those qualities will be her downfall, eventually -- not her voice. As for sounding "beyond her years," as others keep claiming, I think Katie sounds like what she is: A 17-year-old reaching for relevance through her surprisingly deep tone. She's not there. Use a stepstool, dear. Or a Siobhan Magnus mask.
8. Tim Urban, "Crazy Little Thing Called Love"
If he were eliminated tomorrow, I wouldn't complain, but you have to give Tim Urban credit for trying something as groovy and rollicking as "Crazy Little Thing." I admit that McFly's jumps and slides seemed like part of a Kidz Bop tribute to Risky Business, but I appreicated his energy more than I appreciated -- say -- Paige Miles' inability to even embrace her song choice. You know his Top 10 tour booking is inevitable, right? God, he thinks he can just dress like Ellen and run away with this whole thing.
7. Michael Lynche, "When a Man Loves a Woman"
Now THIS is getting intolerable. The Percy Sledge classic ranks among the schmaltziest love songs of the past 2,500 years, and Michael Lynche is ranking among the most cloying, uncomfortable performers since Scott MacIntyre. The judges hang on Siobhan Magnus for choosing to end each song with a screech, but they really need to hunker down with Michael Lynche and say something about that stupid falsetto. Michael's pitch may be on, but his chance at seeming relevant is way, way off.
6. Lee Dewyze, "The Letter"
When given the chance to trill a Billboard No. 1 smash, why, oh why, would you choose this silly number from ages ago. Lee knows he could've picked The Police or something, right? At any rate: Lee's voice is admirable, and the nerviness of his performances offsets his strange awkwardness. But it's going to take more than growls and perspiration to win this title away from Bowersox and Magnus.
5. Aaron Kelly, "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing"
Fetus the Magnificent overcame laryngitis, shook off Ryan Seacrest's lame intro (and his "David Archuleta" snipe), and triumphed by... picking exactly the tune you expected. "Miss a Thing" is the sappiest Diane Warren hit to date (call Guinness!), but he did infuse a solid, undeniably country influence into this cheesefest armageddon. Now, when he goes back to Flushing Meadows Forever, the old folks home where 98-year-old women pinch his cheeks and ask for another Rudy Vallee tune, the 16-year-old has a recent song to add to his repertoire. Well done-ish!
4. Casey James, "The Power of Love"
Simon harped too much on this one -- sure, Casey sounded A LOT like the Huey Lewis version, but what else should he have sounded like? He was pitch-perfect, present, and emanating ebullience when he took the stage, and that's miles ahead of the other male performers, who emanate nervous disorders and amniotic fluid. Just makes me want to strap on my vest, meet Doc by the Twin Pines mall, and throw Randy Jackson into the Flux Capacitor on a time-trek headed for the Triassic. That's the power of love.
3. Siobhan Magnus, "Superstition"
For the first time in weeks, Magnus did not kill it for me. Her version of the hysterically overplayed "Superstition" came with all the Magnus trappings: soulful start, caterwauling conclusion, a weird "Boogers girl" charm (You know you called someone "Boogers girl" in first-grade, and you know she was Siobhan.). But it just fell short of her past performances in terms of ingenuity and freshness. She needs to eat a little less glue and a little more brainfood next time around. But she's almost there.
2. Didi Benami, "You're No Good"
I'm going to keep pimping Didi until she becomes an obvious frontrunner, because for right now, the judges seem bent on handing her critiques that better suit Katie Stevens. Didi looked like she was "playing a character up there," Kara? Katie hopes and prays she can be considered a character every week -- that would give her something. Didi can at least command a crowd, and invoking the bass-player flirtation of a '70s frontwoman isn't as contrived as the panel made it sound. I thought the song choice was also witty and strong, but sometimes Simon is a Stone Pony of a completely disagreeable sort. Certainly one of the best performances of the night. Eff the haters. Hail the Mildly Crazy-Eyed One.
1. Crystal Bowersox, "Me and Bobby McGee"
Ellen, please go back to throwing yourself into a cartwheel when Tim Urban hits a note, because fuck you for saying that Crystal Bowersox "lacks personality." You lack things to say. You lack the ability to give a qualified review. Bowersox's rather obvious choice of "Me and Bobby McGee" didn't reinvent or even change the original version, but she invigorated it with verve and steely rasp. She's still the girl to beat, even if Simon's incessant superlatives threaten to turn her into an overexposed also-ran. Now, let's all thank Kris Kristofferson for his songwriting capacity, because I'm not sure I can thank him for much else.